Steven Wedgeworth has penned a thought-provoking piece on what appears to be a developing vacuum in the leadership of the Reformed “world.” To use Wedgeworth’s designations: whereas North American Calvinism once had “giants”, those now filling the de facto positions of Reformed influence are a “motley crew,” and one that does not always see eye-to-eye or even get along. The landscape is “bleak” beyond these few influential Reformed leaders, and Wedgeworth highlights a growing group of “digital brawlers” commanding much of the discourse. Is there a fracturing afoot?
While I believe Wedgeworth is likely on to something, I am probably more sanguine about the problems with a “giant” vacuum—for my money, the issue is less in our lack of truly Big Names, and more in the changing ways in which someone might gain influence, and the shortcuts it often leads him to take to get there. I suggest that the age we live in and its technological changes (I avoid using “advances” for reasons explained below) has re-formed what Reformed influence means. To quote Hemingway, this has taken place “gradually, then suddenly.”
Are all “Advances” Advances?
Since I was a youth, I have been inculcated with the story of Johann Gutenberg developing the moveable-type printing press and how it was a technological advance used for the promulgation of the gospel. This is an assumed premise for many historical discussions. Literacy rates ballooned prior to the Reformation, “thanks to Gutenberg’s invention.”1 The Reformers readily utilized “the movable type printing press introduced in Germany by Johannes Gutenberg,”2 mass-producing printed catechisms and various other theological tracts which spread the ideas of the Reformation in a way previously impossible. Indeed, “Gutenberg’s movable type, still only three-quarters of a century old, made possible the flow of Lutheran literature throughout Europe.”3 Without Gutenberg’s “advance,” we are told, the Reformation likely could not have happened. The Reformation occurred in a providentially-auspicious period: the “stars aligned,” so to speak, allowing the doctrines of the solas to propagate, and they could not be stopped. Something may be an advance in technology, however, while having more downsides than upsides. The negative social and moral outcomes of a discovery may outweigh the technological positives. So where does Gutenberg’s press fall?
No doubt Gutenberg’s printing press was a technological advance. No doubt it played a role in the Reformation. No doubt Luther may very well have remained a local rebel-outcast no one had heard of were it not for Gutenberg. Apart from tracts, catechisms, and theological tomes, the printing press also meant that the Scriptures were readily available to households. Weighing all of these things, I am grateful for Gutenberg. I see his printing press as a true advance and a great gift.
But lost in the hagiography is nevertheless a real downside. J. I. Packer points this out in his discussion of post-Reformation catechesis. Practical catechesis, as retrieved and promoted by the Reformers, specifically included teaching laymen the essentials of the Christian faith. This practice aligned with ancient Christian catechesis by defining Christian essentials over against pagan and heretical beliefs being promoted contemporaneously. But as Packer notes about post-Reformation Europe, “it became increasingly common for Christian communities to use catechesis to compete with other Christian communities.”4 Catechisms sometimes became weapons against other Christian traditions, and so ironically, “the very technological advance that helped to reinvigorate catechesis at the time of the Reformation may well have helped to bring about its demise in the centuries following.”5 As catechisms flew off of Europe’s printing presses, more lines were drawn, more fights emerged, and more division was entrenched. A focus on the interpersonal relationship of catechumen with catechist dwindled. And instead of a Christian (new or otherwise) learning the essentials of the faith in consort with a real, flesh-and-bones, Christian leader, he could now study his catechism at home. A real benefit! And yet not without its downsides. What Gutenberg wrought was a true advance but one with real dangers.
This is but one example of technological advances that swept the world over the centuries. But where the history of the printing press was one of long, gradual growth, we have now suddenly found ourselves with a new tool. The internet and social media descended like a gale out of the north, bringing with it the promise of immediate dispersal of ideas and information in a way that would stupefy Gutenberg.
As with the printing press, Christian and Reformed leaders have jumped at the opportunity to gain influence through the tools of today. We may regularly hear dutiful warnings that “technology is a tool, and social media must be used with wisdom,” yet by the time we hear the warnings the internet has become a foregone conclusion—a part of the air we breathe and the tapestry of culture, and what wise use might be is still not often clear. Gutenberg’s tool was an advance; is Zuckerberg’s?
I adopted Zuckerberg’s tech early. I was a new college student when “The Facebook” was unveiled only to select colleges and students with college email addresses. I spent many of my younger adult years growing and developing even as social media did. Without doing a full study of social media here, I would simply point to a few things on its positive side before sketching some negatives. It allowed for old friends to stay in touch. And on the theological end of the spectrum, it allowed for people to connect with their favorite authors and teachers and hear from them much more quickly. No longer do I have to wait for someone’s new book to come out to read what they’re thinking; I can get “live” updates in snippets of their thought put out in 280 characters. And though what was once Twitter’s famous character-cap has expanded for subscribers, the common rhythm of social media is still defined by brevity. I might even be able to ask a question of a world-famous theologian—me, a nobody!—and receive an answer. Is it an advance? I think it is.
But what have we lost? A 2025 study concludes that while “social media can facilitate connection and learning”—an upside, an advance—“its overuse typified by multitasking and exposure to short-form, ephemeral content—normally results in shorter attention spans, impaired working memory, and cognitive fatigue.”6 The line between normal use and “overuse” may be up for debate, but the outcomes of “shorter attention spans, impaired working memory, and cognitive fatigue” are things most users have observed and would recognize. And these sorts of outcomes, which also result in “cognitive delays and poorer academic performance”for students may be even more pronounced in younger children.7
Shorter attention spans alone can have a host of impacts. Just think of a Reformed theologian seeking to make a reasoned, logical, biblical argument. He carefully lays out his case, cites relevant sources and Scriptures, and draws them together to make his point. But if his reader has unhitched in the second paragraph, has he effectively made his point? (Have my readers even stuck with me thus far?) His reader may not only have failed to actually grasp his point but may have misinterpreted it entirely.
We would be naïve to think that these sorts of effects are only to be found among the unwashed masses. This is affecting the Reformed world too, and not just the laity. Not all technological “advances” are advances. While 21st century technology and social media has its advantages, we Reformed have been insufficiently wise to its downsides. I would go a step further: it has played directly into our warring spirit.
From Gutenberg to Zuckerberg via Geneva
The Reformers made use of the moveable-type printing press, and their heirs now make use of the new social media. I cannot make a confident comparative valuation of the downsides of Gutenberg’s tech and Zuckerberg’s tech. They are of a similar essence (the easier and quicker spread of ideas) though differing in degree. And yet I cannot help but believe that the downside of the latter is far greater. If the printing press streamlined and fast-tracked theological arguments, how much greater is the social media fast track! Its speed is in a different league altogether and barely comparable.
Take the relatively well-known example of Richard Baxter’s pastoral ministry, built as it was on regular, personal visits and interaction with those of his parish. How many miles did he walk, visiting with and teaching his people? How did he find time for theological debate and argument while doing all of that? I ask this wryly because the answer is that he did not. J. C. Ryle says that while many pastors wrangled about “the divine right of Episcopacy or Presbytery” or split hairs about “reprobation and free-will,” Baxter instead “was always visiting from house to house, and beseeching men, for Christ’s sake, to be reconciled to God.” While others were “entangling themselves in politics,” Baxter was “living a crucified life, and daily preaching the Gospel.”8
None of that is to say that Baxter engaged in no theological debate. Of course he did in some ways. He was one of the most prolific theological writers of his era. And none of this is to say that he was a retreatist, reclusive, heavenly-minded and no-good-for-the-earth pastor. No, while he did not spend his effort finding time for theological debate, others certainly found that time for him. He was repeatedly charged, tried, fined, and even jailed. One of his prosecutors once cried that Baxter had “poisoned the world with his Kidderminster doctrine.”9 And yet, though the temptation would have been great to simply “fall in” with those divisive battles, his focus was his parish—literally, his “turf.”
Yes, he wrote a lot. Yes, he made use of Gutenberg’s advance. But not at the expense of his real pastoral relationships. And not for the sake of book sales, influence, or besting his rivals. In his own words, “These things will surely be understood one day, what fools one sort of Protestants are made to prosecute the other.”10 He was put forward for the bishopric, and he turned it down.
Zuckerberg’s advance has only ramped up the temptation to engage in theological debate without end. Baxter’s rivals were still limited by physical and chronological constraints. Their “turf wars” still happened on “turf.” But now, the wrangling about “the divine right of Episcopacy or Presbytery,” the splitting hairs about “reprobation and free-will,” happens thousands of times a day all over social media. And not in long-form, reasoned argument, not amongst people who know each other or can travel to meet the other person with relative ease, but often in short-form, attention-span-constrained back-and-forth. Theological debate has been dumbed down, and many Reformed leaders have fallen into the trap.
Instead of a theological rival within a pastor’s own parish-turf, for example, his rival is now across cyberspace. Instead of a pastor’s parishioners defecting to another church down the street, now a new upstart influencer has built a Zoomer following, and his viewership is defecting. What were once localized issues are now universalized, and now your “turf” is no longer your own neighborhood but your views, clicks, and likes.
Machen’s “warrior children” have never found a weapon they did not love, and social media was an easy sell. Gradually, technology advanced, and the Reformed made use of it willingly and with great effect. But now, that technology has suddenly advanced to the place where short-form, protracted theological war is the primary currency.
Re-forming Reformed Influence
So do the Reformed need “giants” once again? Whatever that means exactly, perhaps yes, perhaps no. The Reformed need men who will lead with their feet on the ground, not merely on the ether of the web. The Reformed need men with real-world skill and competence who can discipline their attention long enough to digest old ideas via old books. The Reformed need men not blown to-and-fro by algorithmic social media trends but driven and undergirded by the things that have lasted and stood the test of time. The Reformed need men who are not so worried about whether they are trending but about the truth of Scripture.
The wisdom of James still holds true, even in a technological age he could not have envisioned: “What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you?…You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel” (Ja 4:1–2). Neither Gutenberg nor Zuckerberg causes fights and quarrels. And yet they give our passions firm footholds to push off of if we are careless.
If we are to have a restored and less motley crew of Reformed leaders, we need ones who stay in their lane, doing what God called them to by bestowing their gifts, and avoiding the useless fracases. This does not mean that pastors and theologians should never comment on geopolitics, economics, government policy, science, and the like. They should. But there is a stream of thought that overvalues the ability of theologians and pastors in such things: “If you know the Bible, you are completely equipped to know what’s-what on the Iran War” (or whatever).
Knowledge of the Scriptures and full training in them makes a man “complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Tim 3:17). But that does not mean the Scriptures are all one needs to do “good work” in politics. The Scriptures are the necessary framework within which to work out our politics; they are the guidelines within which our politics must reside. But too often we expect our Reformed leaders to be experts in all things generally rather than Scriptural generalists.
When social media dictates the debate and we use these scuffles to survey and mark out our “turf,” Reformed leadership stumbles and is stunted. We have not merely lost Reformed “giants,” but we have traded our desire for stature, for the pottage of Twitter victories.
Perhaps it is necessary to push back even further and hear Solomon’s words: “Do not speak in the hearing of a fool, for he will despise the good sense of your words.…Buy truth, and do not sell it; buy wisdom, instruction, and understanding” (Prov 23:9, 23). What better opportunity to speak in the hearing of a fool than on social media? At some level, “speaking in the hearing of a fool” is unavoidable, but it must be measured if we are to have Reformed leaders who leave a truly lasting legacy. Buying truth, wisdom, instruction, and understanding, is long, hard, slow work, unsuited for a life lived on the web.
The technology of our modern age has re-formed what Reformed influence means by re-orienting influence into a proper noun: the rise of the Influencer. But we can re-form that influence again. If our leaders return to and re-engage with the real world and with real people near them; if our leaders step back from the regularity of the fast-paced social media landscape and do the long, slow work of pastoral care; if, by doing just that, Baxter’s “Kidderminster doctrine” could still affect the world and frighten the Lord Chief Justices of his day, then so can we.
Jon Herr (MATS, Reformed Theological Seminary; BS Bible, Philadelphia Biblical University) is Pastor of Christ Covenant Church of Chicago (CREC). Previously he served as a deacon and ministerial student at All Saints Church (CREC, Lancaster PA). He and his wife Jackie live in the Chicago suburbs with their two daughters and three sons.
NOTES
- John D. Meade and Peter J. Gurry, Scribes and Scripture: The Amazing Story of How We Got the Bible (Crossway, 2022), 185. ↩︎
- J. I. Packer and Gary A. Parrett, Grounded in the Gospel: Building Believers the Old-Fashioned Way (Baker Books, 2010), 61. ↩︎
- William P. Haugaard, “From the Reformation to the Eighteenth Century,” in The Study of Anglicanism, eds. Stephen Sykes, John Booty, and Jonathan Knight, rev. ed. (SPCK; Fortress Press, 1998), 5. ↩︎
- Packer, Grounded in the Gospel, 69. ↩︎
- Packer, Grounded in the Gospel, 70. ↩︎
- Alina Poles, “Impact of Social Media Usage on Attention Spans,” Psychology 16, no. 6 (June 2025): 760–772. ↩︎
- Sheri Madigan et al., “Association Between Screen Time and Children’s Performance on a Developmental Screening Test,” JAMA Pediatrics 173, no. 3 (January 2019): 244–250. ↩︎
- J. C. Ryle, Light From Old Times (Chas. J. Thynne, 1903), 329. Packer and Parrett quoted some of this, and I’m grateful for their pointer to this section of Ryle’s book. ↩︎
- Ryle, Light from Old Times, 332. ↩︎
- Ryle, Light from Old Times, 334. ↩︎